The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1887-12-17
A SUMMER AFTERNOON.
by REBEccA HARDING DAVIS.


which stands with its orchards and heldS
between a wide tidal river and the sea.
Summer boarders have brought the usual
changes to it-tennis courts, colored walters,
and an annex Of row of new chambers
filed with the inevitable as furniture from
Grand Rapids.
Old Israel Prout is not quite awake to the
change yet, nor satisfied to reap larger har-
vest from these frivolous college boys and
pretty girls than he ever did from his mead
ows of salt hay. He sits about uncomforta-
bly, and talks to the older men among the
boarders. He Especially affected the COM
pany last summer Of an old, shabby fellow
named Mccain. who had, as he told Israeli
but two weeks holiday in his yearly grind,
and had come to spend it in deep sea fishing
One day twinges of rheumatism kept him
from going out to the Banks, and he sat with
Israel, smoking, on the shore of the inlet,
watching the young men racing in their sail
boats.
''Who is that?" he asked, nodding towards
young fellow who sat apart on the bank
81 have not seen him before"
''No. He's neighbours son. Widow Rid
dell, She's had hard luck. Only had this
boy, John, an he took to books from baby.
Could do nothin' at farmin'. Shrewd, sensi-
BILE boy, too. Worked his way through col
lege and went abroad for two years as tutor
for some rich mans sons. Got place after
that in big insurance house in Philadel-
phia, an then took typhoid, an lost it. He's
been laid on the shelf for nigh year. You
see he looks porely yet. But he's ready for
work, If he could git it. 1t isn't easy to git.
He's been tryin right and left. Got no in
hooence. When you git out of the perces-
sien s'pose faint easy to catch step agin'"
mo, suppose not" said Mccain. what
did he do in that house?"
Talked to the furriners that he'd business
there Them queer LIMOGES come material to
John. Ef he'd taken as much interest in
farmin' as in French, it 'ud hev served his
turn better"
A year ago John would have been in one
of the boats, shouting, laughing, cheering.
Now he thought, how could any grown man
care for such folly? Life was such breath
less tragedy! Why, look at him, shelved at
twenty-three! For six months he had been
scheming, struggling, begging for work
not charity, but work! An able-boded man.
no fool, educated, on fire with eagerness to
use his knowledge and help the world-yet
not even allowed to earn his liyingl There
was ne chance in this country for young
man without capital or infuence-nonel
Men who owed him kindnesses had turned
a cold shoulder on him when he asked for
work. 1t was cold, selfish world, and the
true secret was to care only for yourself in
It'll
The fact was that the lad had made his
first plunge into disappointment so common
in life, and the chill of it struck to his heart.
He had received lot of letters that morning,
ell refnsas. His mother had coaxed him to
go over to Prout's and see the race, hoping
to cheer him up.
you must see something of folk, John.
Bessy may be there by this time"
what was the little artist to him? What
home had he to offer her? Two years ago
he had planned
But he had come to please his mother.
How dull the sky wasl The marshes were
fiat and hideous in the leaden light, the
creeks black and sluggish. the very tiger
lilies and marsh-mallows by the path wearied
his eye.
AS he sat on the bank groups of girls in
their airy gowns futtered through the trees;
on the pier were two or three portly old gen.
tlemen, judges, bank presidents, million
aires, no doubt purse proud and miserly.
He hated them ALL EVERY man for him
selfp' he muttered, stretching out his legs.
as an Italian an-grinder tried to pass
him. John would not bulge.
The man was ridiculous enough. On his
heels were steel spurs, with which, when he
ground the organ, he struck brass kettle,
and on his head a high triangular cap edged
with bells. He set down the organ and be-
gan to turn it, executing sort of frenzied
dance, kicking the kettle and wagging his
head. A little girl stood motionless beside
him. John burst into laugh. He was but
boy after all in the depths of his despair.
Even an organ-grinder was an event at
Prout's. The girls came chattering up from
the woods, the portly old gentlemen saun-
tered across the beach, Mr.. Mccain and
Israel lounged down the bank towards him.
"Hyar, you tramp, be OFF, said Prout.
John jumped up.
LET the man alone, Uncle Israel. It's a
hard way to earn a living, heaven knows
Give him chance"
Israel laughed. The Italian nodded to
John and fell to work with frantic energy.
The organ shrieked. the kettle rang, the
bells tangled He stopped breathless and
nodded again to Riddell.
"You are from Piedmonte?" asked John.
The mans yellow dirty face glowed at the
sound Of his own patos.
Isl, signor. Carema. 81, SIP
"What does he say?" cried the old ladies
and the girls, crowding closer. Even the
solid bankers, who in town would not have
seen the Italian, though he had crossed their
path dozen times day, in this idle hour
looked at him with feeble interest.
He says he is from village in the lower
Alps" said John. Il was mere once" On
the instant the low cottages, the brown vine
yards, the sharp range Of peaks in the back
ground, and the halfru castle to the
right, rose before them. 81 know Carema,"
he said. Pedro Nossi was my good friend
there"
"Ah, Pedro is my uncle! the Italian fairly
screamed. II am Seppi. Have you not
heard of Seppi? And did the signor see the
church at Carema9 And the pictures All,
there is no picture like that In Italy in the
world!"
"What does he say?" came the chorus
again.
To their surprise it was the old fisherman,
Mccain, who answered them, interpreting
for John and Seppi, who were too eager to
hear him, as they discussed the marvellous
beauty of the poor little village and of Sep
PTS house, which was on the edge of the
road to Ivria.
The Italian caught the little girl who was
with him by the shoulder.
"Anita? The signor has walked by our
housed He has perhaps broken bunch Of
grapes from the old vine, and rested on the
big stone where your blessed mother used to
sit in the EVENING" She may be there now
looking down the road for Seppi and her
baby glrl!'
The tears stood in his beady black eyes.
The child, who was as stolid and square as
If cut out of log, quietly put up one fat
hand and wiped them away.
''Some time, my father" she said.
"Why did you leave Carema, Seppi?"
''Signor, / came with a great padrone
from Aosta. He said: If you will come
with Anita, and play and dance in America
for two years, you shall come home rich
rich." ! wanted to be rich," said Seppi
gravely shaking his head.
The bells tangled merrily, in odd contrast
70 ha mi hia face hollow